those
untroubling inventions of which she had complained. Since she was not
devoted to the distraction of social gaieties, Cicily found an appalling
amount, of unemployed time on her hands. She was blest with an excellent
education; but, with no great fondness for knowledge as such, she was
not inclined to prosecute any particular study with the ardor of the
scholar. To rid herself of the boredom induced by this state of affairs,
the young wife decided that she must develop a new interest in her
fellow creatures. She went farther, and resolved to establish herself on
a basis of equality with her husband, not merely in love, but in the
sterner world of business. Thus, she was brought to entertain a
convincing belief in equality for the sexes, in society and in the home.

She revealed something of her mind and heart to her aunt on the
afternoon of the day following the singular session of the Civitas
Society. The two women were together in Cicily's boudoir, a delightful
room, all paneled in rose silk, with furniture _Louis Quatorze_, and
Dresden ornaments.... It was an hour yet before time for the
dressing-bell. Cicily, in a negligee of white silk that fitted well with
the color scheme of the room and that only emphasized the purity of her
ivory skin, suddenly sat up erect in the chair where she had been
nestling in curving abandonment.

"Why, Aunt Emma," she exclaimed, with a new sparkle in the amber eyes,
"we forgot to set any date for another meeting of the club?"

But Mrs. Delancy did not seem impressed by the oversight.

"Do you think it makes any real difference, dear?" she questioned
placidly.

At this taunt, Cicily assumed an air of reproach that was hardly
calculated to deceive the astute old lady, who had known the girl for
twenty years.

"Don't you take our club seriously?" she questioned in her turn. Her
musical voice was touchingly plaintive.

"Oh, it's serious enough," was the retort. "It's either seriously
pitiful, or pitifully serious, whichever way you choose to look at it."

Cicily abandoned her disguise of concern, and laughed heartily before
she spoke again.

"I must admit that I think it's a joke, myself," she admitted: "more's
the pity." There was a note of genuine regret in her voice now. Then,
she smiled again, with much zest. "But it was so amusing--stirring them
up, and then calmly taking the presidency myself, because none of them
knew just how to stop me!"

"It was barefaced robbe